In the Court of the Lionheart
by tineabean11
Summary: DISCONTINUED (OR ON HOLD... NOT SURE.)In the court of the good King Richard the Lionheart many a young lad comes seeking to train to become a knight. The same goes for young Will Romenel, except for one small detail... Will is a girl, and no one but her best friend and maid knows. In a time when many are killed for less, how will she survive? AN.
1. Chapter 1

"Watch your flank! Parry! Thrust! On your toes you dalcops!" Old Tom firmly whacked the closest boy with his thick trademark cane that never left his side. Tom was never really known for his kindness, and his mouth was always expelling a fair amount of spit along with his constant insults. But, for all of his blustering and clouting, he never really harmed any of his charges, and most who graduated, had a sort of fondness for the old codger. That doesn't however, mean that it was a pleasure to receive the occasional welt.

Blowing an auburn strand of hair out of my vision, I readied for my turn. The boys currently sparing had been at it for some time, and were obviously looking for a quick way out. Seeing this, Tom growled and gave them both a good smack before sending them to run laps around the castle grounds for their laziness.

"Will, Barney, you're up." Looking up from my stretches, I roll my shoulders before accepting a practice sword from Sam's outstretched hand. He gives me a thumbs up and hands one to Barney. I didn't really know Barney, he was a bit of a loner, and a rather pudgy boy that was mercilessly picked on by the others. Tom called "Ready!" and I slipped into the familiar stance, readying my blade, and looking toward my opponent. His stance is clumsy, and the point of his sword wavers back and forth as he struggles to keep it up. I sighed. If I beat him too easily, he'd be punished, but if I let him get a few pitty hits in, we'd both be running laps past suppertime.

"Begin" I was startled from my thoughts by a clumsy jab aimed at my side. I easily evade it and spin around, bringing my wooden blade up to block my exposed back, but Barney was still reeling from over correcting with his swing. Seeing no way to make it look as if he had any skill whatsoever, I grudgingly jabbed my sword into the side target on his practice padding, and return to my original stance, and await Tom's verbal abuse for my opponent with a ready wince.

"Why do I even bother with you, ya' great Tallowcatch?!" Tom didn't even bother to hit him, and just began spitting insults, waving his arms around like a blind pelican in a storm. "Your father never gave me this sad excuse for an effort! He was top of his class! Perhaps I should just send you home to him and see what _he_ can do with ye!" Barney was quivering like an autumn leaf on the branch, ready to crumble up and be blow away, and I couldn't help the words that slipped from my mouth.

"Let 'im be!" I covered my mouth, trying to take the words back as he directed his red face and bulging eyes at me. He stares for a while, blustering and fuming.

His face drops as an idea crosses it, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Though he was a good man that cared for his boys, he also had quite a temper, especially when crossed. I had once seen him smack a horse's backside because its young rider refused to jump an obstacle in the course. The boy was in the hospital wing for days after his resulting fall, and still refuses to ride anywhere near Tom during training.

The look in Tom's face was quick, and soon replaced by his usual grouchy stare. "Want to stand up for this bucket of lard William? Well how about this, I'll make him your responsibility! You've got two weeks to get some improvement out of this waste O' space, or you both get a month of detention!" He looked on smugly as my face quickly went from relief to horror. I frantically rack my brains for an excuse, any excuse; but there was none to be found. Seeing my look of resignation, Tom nodded in satisfaction, and called the end of the lesson. He walked off, leaning on his cane in an almost mocking way, proud of unknowingly sealing the girl's fate.

"I'm a dead woman." I whisper as I passed a very green Sam on my way back to the castle, unknowingly still gripping the wooden sword, trailing it behind in the dirt.


	2. Chapter 2

"Lady Rose, are you finished in there?" Marge called through the door before opening it anyway. Typical.

"Yes, I'm ready to go." My voice was muffled by the shift that I am trying to wiggle into, my damp skin making it a challenge. I feel a yank, and it's on, revealing the plump face of my only lady's maid. Few people knew both Will and Rose, fewer still knew we were one and the same. Marge was one and Sam the other. That was it, and Marge disapproved highly of the fact, and took every opportunity to tell me so.

"Mi' Lady, you must stop this foolishness, it's getting more difficult to hide the bruises. Things that no proper lady should have, therefore there _should_ be no reason to hide them." The last bit was mumbled under her breath as she struggled to lace up the corset, and as I try not to wince at every tug. Moments later, I'm ready for dinner, or, as ready as a page/Lady could be.

My mother would never have approved of the life I was leading, but mother wasn't here; and hadn't been for years. She had died with the last major outbreak of unnamed illness that swept through England. Father followed not months after, leaving me with no one but Marge, and nothing but a title. My aunt, who resides in the king's court all season long, took me in. Well, she gave me a room and "left me to it". And "it" turned out to be sewing and gossiping. That was all that there was for a girl of eleven to do in the palace. I was not used to such idleness.

Though I'd grown up the daughter of a well off earl, I was the only child, and therefore, my Father taught me everything he longed to teach a son. I was up at dawn playing with the barn animals and tending to my horse, Black Jack. Then it was breakfast (in a dress at Mother's insistence) and then, fencing practice. Father had taught me swordsmanship as soon as my hands could grip a hilt. We practiced hard until lunch, and I was able to occasionally best him by the time I was nine. After lunch (not in a dress, and often consisting of a sandwich on the floor) I was then free to roam my father's lands as Jack and I wished. We often visited the farmers and I played with the young farm hands. They taught me more peasant-like means of defence such as archery and the sling shot. I never really gained the proficiency that I had with a sword, but it kept my mind and hands busy perfecting my newly learned skills.

When Father died, Aunt showed up and took over everything. She dismissed most of the staff and ordered many of my family treasures to be sold, creating a dowery and spending money for me when she took me to court to find a husband. Aunt had a dinner twice a month, each time with a new young man that had been bribed to flatter and make me fall madly in love. It was my bimonthly torture.

Thankfully, Aunt seemed to believe that these dinners fulfilled her duties as my guardian, and didn't bother with me until the next one. The boys that know me as Will, believe that their pre pubescent friend is a sort of ill werewolf that missed two dinners a month like clockwork. I really don't mind. As long as they didn't guess the truth, they could think what they wanted.

The man I'm meeting tonight is a well known ladies man. Sir Ronald, a pompous know-it-all that believes it's a woman's privilege to gaze upon his majesty. I consider playing ill, but I know that I'll have to face him at some point. He's about a decade older than me (and every other girl that he subjected to his "charms"). He loves to drone on about his times in the crusades with King Richard, and often exaggerates his tales to the point of telling everyone that he had single handedly saved the King from a band of twenty savage Jerusalemites.

Of course, now that King Richard was off at war, many noblemen were trying to get ahead of the game. Constantly fighting one another, paying bandits to invade a town under the care of their rivals… even the king's own brother had began to worm his way into the empty throne. while the cat's away… Oh well, hopefully the crusades would end quickly and bring the king home to sort out his court and his shifty baby brother. I shook my head to rid myself of the pointless politics.

"All done Mi' Lady, just don't fiddle too much with the sleeves and no one will suspect you're a cross-dressing-heathen." She fussed with the dresses' hem, trying to fluff it to its max.

"Thank you" I kissed her cheek, ignoring the jibe at my life outside dresses and dances. I love Marge with all my heart, and know that despite her constant disapproval, she loves me too. She was my nanny before becoming my Lady's maid, and she knows my inclinations toward adventure better than perhaps even Father did. She had always been a second mother, and the loss of my parents was made bearable by this plump woman.

I sigh, and steel myself to knock at Aunt's door. "Enter dear." Her voice is airy, and precise in carrying across the room and through the door, a skill perfected by her constant gossiping. I straighten my back and slip into the well lit room. It's covered in every shade of purple, pink and red, her sickeningly fake personality showing through each trinket, lace and frill. She and Sr. Ronald are sitting at the table, leaning in to each other as they undoubtedly exchanged the latest "news". He looked up and released what he must have believed was a charming smile, and rose to help me into a chair before returning to his chair at the head of the table, Aunt to the right, and I to the left.

The evening passed much as I expected, Aunt fauned over Sr. Ronald and he blabed on and on until I had no choice but to interrupt, telling Aunt of my non existent exhaustion, and excusing myself. As soon as the door closes, I run to my room and toss all of my unnecessary frills off, and change into my Will garb, rub off all the makeup and rip the clips out of my hair. I sigh in relief, grab my sword, and clip it to my belt. Leaving through the old servants entrance through the back of the wardrobe in the corner, I evade Marge's protests at the treatment of my useless outfit. The stairs lead me to a door leading out to the stables, and I lay a hand on the door nob, ready to let the wind carry me and Jack away from Aunt, Sr. Ronald and this whole suffocating castle. Without warning, the events of this afternoon and the pudgy boy that was now in my charge enter my mind, and command my attention. Sighing, I turn from the door and head to the barracks. The boys have to share two to a room, and Sam and I were put together (at our insistence) and I head to our room first to grab Sam and some practice equipment.

"Sam, get up, I need your help."

"Rose, this had better be good." He yawned, stretching like a cat, and smacking his lips a few times before jumping down off the top bunk. He was a light sleeper, probably due the constant threat of death if he and his roommate were discovered. He had saved our skins a few times by detecting footsteps down the hall. Often Old Tom coming for a surprise inspection, or to have us do a few surprise laps around the castle grounds to prepare us for some future night invasion.

Seeing Sam up and rubbing his eyes, I toss his clothes and sword at him. "What the bloody hell is this for?" He grumbles, beginning to put them on anyway.

"I'm in charge of Barney's training, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"When I first came here, how did I help you learn to hold a sword?"

"Well, you…*Yawn*... took me out at night so I wouldn't have a confidence issue in front of the others." He continued putting on his pants, but stopped, one leg still clad in only his drawers. "Rose, this isn't the same thing. Barney Ward is nothing but a laze about. He'll probably just end up in some library or as a bridge guard. He has no ambition whatsoever."

"Sam, you're helping me, or I'll write to your mother and tell her what you really did instead of visiting her during winter break"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me, Mr. Ten Pints."

"Fine, but I reserve the right to say 'I told you so'."

"So granted. Now let's go see if you can whip a pig into shape."

* * *

"You're doing better," I circle him, inspecting his stance and grip on the sword. " but you need to learn to guard your left flank." I smack at the offending side with the flat of my sword and he shifts to block. "Perfect!" I can't help beaming. He has gone from a noodle throwing its weight around to an adequate opponent in twelve short days.

"One last match and then you can go to bed." Barney nods and slips into the first stance. Sam does the same on the other side of the ring and they begin. Watching, I marvel at Barney's progress. The last couple of days I've really gotten to know him better, he has great strength, but that can be a challenge when starting out in dueling. He kept throwing his weight around, because he wasn't told what to do with it. Simple adjustments and instruction on storing his strength until he struck made him a formidable enemy in no time. I couldn't wait to see how he does when we start jousting.

"Match." Barney's rumbling voice calls out, breathless from the fight. I can see that the tip of his blade is against Sam's neck, and attempt to keep my squeal of delight in.

"Excellent!" I call. "You can go to bed now." He nods and heads off to the showers, a noteable pep in his step.

"Holy crap Sam, did you see that?!" I can't seem to help my voice and hands from vibrating in excitement as I bounce over to him.

"See it? I felt it!" He's rubs his neck, trying to shake off the match. He looks irritated, but I know him well enough to see he's impressed.


	3. Chapter 3

**** Two Years Later ****

* * *

It was our last year before we became squires, and I was terrified of what lay ahead. We were to squire for a knight, and if I wasn't careful, this would be the end of my secret, and therefore, the end of me. My only foreseeable hope lay in the hands of Sr. Godfrey, an old friend of my father's. I remember him well, as he often visited with his son Ralph, before losing him to the same illness that took my parents. He had known me since my birth, and I had grown to love him like an uncle. If I could get him to understand my predicament and take me on without spilling my secret, I might yet avoid the hangman's noose. He had recently returned to court for the ceremony where new squires were to be chosen by knights. He had heard of my residence at court, and wanted to visit, sending a request for a meeting tonight. I sent him a return message accepting and informing him that I would visit him that evening in his quarters after the dinner that was to be held in honor of the knights present. That what I planned to do, just not in a dress as he would be undoubtedly be expecting. I was going to see him dressed as Will, letting him see me for who I had become, just as my Father, his childhood friend, had taught me to be.

I was in a corner of the banquet hall with Sam and Barney, waiting until he had finished with his most recent pint of ale. He had sat down with a look of eager glee, one that had slipped from his face as he searched the crowd and did not find me among the dinner guests. After that, he had begun ordering drink after drink. I felt awful, but I was supposed to help the servants tonight, and stake out a good knight for me to "woo" into accepting me as his squire. Sr. Godfrey waved over the nearest servant, but was refused any more, as he had "had more than his share already". He grunted and rose rather unsteadily headed out to the corridor. Sam nudged my arm and I headed after the retreating knight, trotting to keep him in my sights. He turned the corner and entered his rooms, closing the door with excessive force. I walked up to the door, steeling myself before knocking. The door swung in almost immediately, Sr. Godfrey, stifled a belched as directed a questioning stare at me.

"Can I help ye?" My tongue was thick, not really allowing more than strangled noises to escape my lips. "You alright lad?" His eyes lost their sad anger, and glowed with the fatherly concern that I received each time I had a hard fall after play fighting with his son. I gestured into his quarters, indicating that I wanted to speak with him in private, and he stepped aside with a raised eyebrow. I entered and sat at the small table he pointed to, and he joined me a minute later with a glass of water that I gladly gulped down. "Now, Lad, if you don't talk, I can't help you, so why don't you tell me why you're here?"

I took a deep breath and began from the beginning. I told him all that I remembered from his visits, assuring him of my identity. I reminded him of all the times his son and I went around the kitchen and stole pastries from Cookie and were chased from the room with a broom and the threat of a beating if we tried it again. I soon had him laughing and crying from the memories. I apologised again and again for not being at the table to greet him at the feast, but he waved it off. Then, I had to tell him why I was dressed like a boy, and why I needed his help.

"Lass, your mother would hang me for even considering it, but there's quite the… erm… sticky situation if you quit now. Besides, knowing your father, I think he would find this infinitely amusing and insist I help." I look up, excited at the tone of resignation in his voice. "I'm not saying that I'll do it, but I'll think about it. It's my neck too if we get caught."

"I understand, thank you." I give him a quick hug and a kiss on his weather worn cheek before bolting out the door.

Sr. Godfrey, of course, took me on as his squire, and none was the wiser to my secret. He treated me like any other boy, except for giving me more private sleeping arrangements. I still trained with Old Tom (as we never left the castle in order to keep up the ruse with Aunt) but Godfrey and I would train late into the night, sometimes out in the forest not far from the castle so we could talk of my parents and his son without fear of discovery. Sr. Godfrey stepped in a bit as a father figure, making the same jokes and being just as hard on me during training as my Father had when he was here. All was well. For now.


	4. Chapter 4

"Pick up the pace Rose! We'll never catch him at this rate!" Barn is always impatient when it comes to hunts, not to mention competitive. It's the first time we have been able to do something on our own since becoming squires,and since our lives have been perpetually hectic as of late, all of our Knights had allowed us the day off to compete in the hunt. Sam is only two feet in front of me, but I'm the one Barn yells at. Figures. I shake my head, knee Jack onward, and breeze passed Sam. Seeing this, he gives me a playful glare and leans into his mare, Sandy's, neck. We laugh and race for a time before we notice that Barneys no longer with us. We stop, panting along with our horses before we look back at the path.

"Oops…" I'm not overly concerned, but if Barn found the pig and took it down it alone, we'd never hear the end of it. We backtrack to a path about thirty yards back and follow the hoofprints to a clearing. Barn is off to the right, leaning on his horse, Apple, and munching on a srtip of deer jerky. The two hounds we had brought from the castle are sitting at his feet, impatient to get on with the hunt. As we near, Barn raises his eyebrows at us.

"You two lovebirds finished goofing off?" Sam and I glance at each other, each the color of a crab in the pot, before turning back to his knowing face. I stick my tongue out at Barn and he releases his usual great, barking laugh. He mounts and points off to the far right, into the bushes. We continue on, silent now that the beast is near; the only sound is the snuffling of the dogs as they lead us further off the trail, white tipped tails wagging in anticipation. We follow for a time before my mind begins to drift.

Barn Discovered my secret about a year and a half ago, and we had been inseparable ever since. He had joined us in our quest to keep my ever growing lie from surfacing, getting himself into the infinite trouble that seemed to follow me like an angry swarm of bees. Sam and I had started being more than best friends about a month ago. He had caught a suitor, who happened to be Alban from our year and a well known bully, trying to get handsy with me after our dinner with Aunt, and although I could more take care of it myself, I was hesitant about attracting attention, a lady that can fight is a rarity indeed. Sam had swooped in, even punched the guy. I now had to be careful to avoid Alban when I was in a dress, but he left us alone otherwise.

Barn's hand comes up, signaling a stop. I jerked out of my mind and looked ahead to see the Boar's den sitting against the base of a cliff. We dismount, grabbing our spears; Barn leads us to the den where we form a circle around the mouth. Sam and I glance at Barn and he holds up three fingers, silently counting down. At the drop of the last finger, he gives the command, and the dogs are off. They rush into the den, baying at full volume. An enraged squeal soon follows.

Barn calls the dogs to fall back, and they join our circle, snarling at the creature. A pig, larger than a pony, streaks out of the hole; his eyes are blood red and crazed. He whips his head around, glaring at each of us in turn. As his gaze turns to me, I can't help the cold shiver that runs down my spine. This isn't a mindless animal. It's smart, strong, and it's pissed, if we aren't careful, this won't end well.

"Sam, get em'!" Barn is yelling at Sam, trying to get him to react, but he's is in a daze staring at the sizable monster before him. At Barn's call, I snap to attention and lunge clumsily at the pig that has yet to stop staring at me. It dodges and I am almost skewered on a tusk, when a yank accompanied by Sam's frenzied exclamation of "Rose!" pulls me out of harm's way. Barely.

I glance at Barney who released my tunic and returned to his position, making a jab at the boar in the process. My near impalement seems to have woken Sam up, I nod at him, assuring him I'm alright before returning my attention to the task at hand.

Sam makes an attempt and only scrapes the beast's back, only managing to make it madder. The pig circles around to me again, and I see a clear opening to its chest, below the chin. I yell, trying to distract it and run as fast as I can, spearing it right below the sternum. The pig squeals and thrashes around, but Barney and Sam are at my side, keeping it from getting at me with its tusks. The dogs are wildly circling the scene, anticipating their share in the kill. The cross on my spear's handle is straining under the pressure of the giant thing. It snaps as the beast dies, all its weight falling toward us. We fall to the ground, pinned by the hunk of meat.

We sit and pant for a moment, the sweaty hog's flesh and its salty blood fill my senses. I gag a bit, and we heave the thing off.

"I think this'll win us the night." Sam gasps, a grin splitting his face in two. "I've lived at King Richard's court all my life, and I've never seen a pig of this size." I nod and attempt to calm my racing heart. Sam reaches out and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. I squeeze his in gratitude and pull him up after me.

We load the boar onto Apple, and head out; Sam leading with Apple's halter tied to Sandy's saddle, and Barn and I following on Black Jack. We spend the hour long ride back loudly singing tavern hunting songs, accompanied by the haunting howls of the dogs. I can just imagine Aunt swoon and faint at the tale of today's events, topped with sailor-worthy songs, and I laugh myself silly at the imagined horror of her face.


	5. Chapter 5

Unfortunately for me, her look of horror needn't be imagined, for it rested firmly on her face the next morning as she scolded me for missing dinner the night before. Due to the feast held on our team's behalf, I saw no real way out of it, and sent a note canceling on Aunt. I knew that it would not sit well with her, she saw the feast as a man's unnecessary need to show off his power. Fortunately for me, the gentleman she had scheduled for the night had also asked for a rain check due to the feast. Aunt ranted at me for almost an _hour_ before I could escape, leaving me late for fencing, which led to Old Tom giving me ten laps. Sam and Barn looked on sympathetically as I passed, but all I could do was shrug and do my allotted laps. Ten laps really was generous for Tom, and I suspected it was due to the success of the hunt and how it reflected on him and his teaching; he probably thought I had celebrated too much the night before. Indeed, by the time I returned, the boys had decided that I had gained the favor of a Lady for my kill and was late for want of leaving her bed.

Barn, Sam and I laughed for almost five minutes straight at the notion. Then, when we had calmed down, Sam asked with a straight face if there was reason for him to be concerned. We had to take another minute or two in order to calm our hiccups.

* * *

A month after the hunt, I began to have some troubles with Aunt and Alban. She thought he was the perfect boy for me, and despite my avid objections, continued to invite him to every dinner, even making more, to the point that there was one every week.

Alban, who I hoped would only show as much interest as any of the other suitors, seemed to side with Aunt on the matter. He seems to believe that we are all but married. He is constantly trying to make moves on me, and is becoming harder to evade by the day. I don't tell Sam, fearing an all out brawl, and instead confide in Barn who is concerned but overall confident in my ability to handle myself.

The King's winter ball was in a few days, and the whole castle was abuzz with the preparations. Sr. Ronald had taken quite a liking to Aunt as of late, and had asked to escort her. She was so elated, she forgot to nag me about getting Alban to ask the same of me, which I had been working very hard to avoid. He had come close a few times when we had been on our postsuper strolls around the gardens. I had been off in my own mind, trying to ignore his wild tales of his own "heroics", when I had caught on to the tale end of a sentence.

"...which brings me to something I've been meaning to ask you." I whipped my head around and stared at him, He grinned at the stunned, horrified look hanging on my face, probably confusing it with wonder. A whole night of this oaf trodding on my toes and yacking in my ear? Not to mention Sam…

"I'm feeling faint.." I burst out, fanning myself and swaying a bit on the spot for effect.

"I can have that effect." I almost gag, but manage to hold it together.

"I have to lie down, excuse me." I'm trying not to run as I march away, not bothering to fake any sign of an impending faint as I leave him alone with his awful cologne and gag inducing pick up lines. When he's out of sight, I run straight to the castle, entering the first door I see, for I can hear footsteps behind me.

The door lead to the kitchens, and everyone inside was gawking at the strange Lady that had just barged in, panting as if she had been running around the grounds like a common servant. I gather my cumbersome skirts and swiftly leave the room, entering the adjacent corridor and walking until I find an entrance to the great hall. From there I run to the quarters that house the Lady's of the court praying that I've lost him. I'm skirting around a corner when my face meets an unexpected wall. As I fall backwards, strong hands grip my arms and help me to right myself.

"Oof!... My apologies good sir… Oh, it's you Sam!" I fling my arms around him in relief and pull him into my rooms.

"Rose, what's going on? Why were you running?" Sam sits on the couch in my sitting room and pulls me down next to him. I snuggle into arm and tell him all about the night's events. His brows furrow at the mention of Alban, and I rub his arm to calm him.

"Well, if he asks again, just tell him you have promised the right to escort you to another."

"Presumptuous, aren't you?" I tease, poking at his side.

"You better believe it missy." I grin as he kisses me on the cheek.

We sit like that for a time, enjoying each other's company before I get up to change, and we leave to go get Barn for a midnight sparring match.


	6. Chapter 6

"But what if Alban tries to bother her?" Sam's face is slightly paler than normal and he coughs into his covers after each time he talks.

"I'll keep an eye on her." Barn says, placing his hand on my shoulder. Sam nods, and sinks back into his pillows.

"Eat if you can," I said, indicating the bowl of soup that Marge had brought up. "And try to get some sleep." I kiss his warm forehead before slipping out the door after Barn.

"He'll be fine, Rose." I nod while still looking over my shoulder at the door. Barn sighs, and grabs my arm, placing it in the crook of his own, and pulls me forward. "You two are impossible. He's not dying, he just has a cold. No biggie." I can tell he convincing himself as much as me, he had lost his mother to the same illness that took mine. He really wasn't that bad, and we both knew that he would come to the dance if I had not insisted he stay and sleep it off, just in case it got worse and he missed practice the next day. I pat his arm in answer, and we continue to the ballroom on the first floor.

* * *

The applause was polite, but without enthusam. All of the songs that the band had been playing for the past hour had been slow and out of tune. This was probably due to the age of the musicians, and the fact that they were constantly taking requests from Aunt, who refused to leave Sr. Ronald's side, but was a dreadful dancer, only being able to follow along to the slower paced songs. At last, she and her partner left to rest and the band struck up a real crowd pleaser, probably as an apology.

"Shall we?" Barn offered his arm, and we took a place off to the side.

I was never much of a dancer (Though definitely better than Aunt), but I'd never had so much fun. I missed Sam, but Barn was fun to dance with. He was surprisingly talented despite his big feet, and he kept me laughing all night. Finally, I had to stop and we headed over to the refreshment table.

"Thank you barn, I've had a lot of fun tonight." I give him a peck on the cheek and sighed as I sink into the chair he's offering. He sits next to me and we watch the bright skirts spin around the room, causing a sense of vertigo if one stared too long. I took a sip of my wine, which had an unfamiliar tang to it. I made a face and set it down.

"It's from the East, strange, isn't it?" This was accompanied by a sort of laugh/cough as he set down his own sour glass.

"So, who's the girl in blue?" His elbow slides off the table and he jumps up, eyes tearing themselves from the dance floor, trying to wipe the wine off his pants. I can't help the giggle that escapes as I hand him my own napkin. After we've gotten as much off as we can, he sits and looks at me with an angry blush.

"I don't know what your talking about." He sniffs, folding his arms.

" Oh please." I wave my fan at him, rolling my eyes at his attempt at subtlety. "Go ask her to dance, I won't mind." He looks at me, eyes big and round like a puppy's. "Just go." I laugh, pushing on his shoulder to urge him on. He stands and walks around the circle of dancers, stopping a few spectators away from the brunette in the blue gown with a lace trim. He looks back and I give him a thumbs up. He squares his shoulders and walks up to her, tapping her shoulder and bowing, hand offered. She takes it and they move out onto the floor, merging with the crowd.

I watch for four dances as they talk and stare at each other, all the while spinning across the marble. There's no doubt that they don't already know each other, but where would they have met that I wouldn't have seen her?

They dance until the song ends, then wander out to the balcony. I can't help but smile, I always feel a pang of guilt when Sam and I are together, leaving Barn to third wheel. I continue to watch the dancers for a time, humming along to the song.

"Don't move." The voice is accompanied by breath that reeks of strong liquor, nothing that was being served at the dance. "Get up and walk toward the side door that leads to the gardens, try anything, and you'll regret it." This last statement was followed by the cool steel of a blade pressed up against my back.


	7. Chapter 7

I stand and walk to the door as told, glancing at the balcony, hoping to catch Barn's attention, but he's too distracted. My unknown companion leads me with a hand on the small of my back, the other hand ready with the knife. The cool night air hits my face and I pull my shawl higher on my shoulders. He isn't bothering with the appearance of civility any more, he grabs my arm and twists it behind my back, blade now to my neck.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" My only answer is the tightening of his grip.

We walk for about ten minutes in silence, each step taking us further from the castle, further from help. My mind races, trying to remember what Old Tom had taught me for overtaking someone larger than me. We reach the hedge maze at the back of the garden, and I try to dig my heels in, but he plunges in. We walk for only a minute or so, after three left turns, two right, and another left. When we stop, it's at a dead end. He flings me in front of him, and I attempt to keep my balance, but can't due to my infernal skirts.

I try to scramble up from my place on the grass, but his boot on my shoulder prevents me. We stare at each other for a time, or he stares at me, I can't see his face due to the deep cowl of his hood. He suddenly breaks the silence, his voice cracking, sounding as if he had been yelling.

"I know who you are." I stare, heart plummeting to the soles of my feet, yet beating loud as a drum in my ears. What did he mean? Did he know about my being Will or Rose? Both?

"The skinny weasel that punched me, the moose you were dancing with… Who else could you be?" He was ranting, pressing harder on my shoulder with each word. "The only one missing is that little twit Will, or so I thought." I shiver, knowing that this unnamed assailant held my life in his hands.

He pulled back his hood, and I wasn't truly surprised to see Alban's face sneering down at me. "How you getting them to keep your secret Will? Are you paying them? Doing favors? You belong to me, your Aunt has promised you to me, and you don't have the right to take my property from me." He sneaks and grabs me, pulling me up and pinning me against the surprisingly solid bushes behind me with his arm against my throat. I try to kick, knee, hit, spit… Anything. Everything I try is laughed off and ignored. Alban was never this good at hand to hand when we were training, but now it's as if I'm hitting a brick wall. I truly begin to see the danger I'm in, and I panic.

"Sam! Barn! Help! Hel-" I'm silenced by a blinding hit to the side of my head. For a time, all I can see is stars.

"Shut up you little trollop! you'll do as I say, or I'll turn you into the authorities and be watching you swing by daybreak." As frightening as hanging was, I feared whatever this monster had in store for me than anything else.

I make another attempt to knee him and he hits me again, this time allowing me to slump to the ground. I cry out, the pain of being hit in the same spot causing me to fade in and out of consciousness. I can hear a peppy new age song coming out of the castle windows. I feel a kick connect with my stomach, and I fight not to vomit. He begins to relentlessly pummel me, kicking and stomping until I'm begging for darkness. He kicks the same spot twice, and I blackout.

When I come to, I can tell it's not much more than a few moments later. I can still hear the same song pouring from the ballroom. I stare at the stars for a time, marveling. I can't tell if Alban is still there, beating me bloody, for I feel out of body. I turn my head to see and gasp. There are three figures running toward me, two male, one female. I look at Alban and see he is staring at my approaching saviors… or his friends, coming to join in the fun. I turn away, uninterested in watching any oncoming attacks.

My ringing ears pick up the sound of a fight, and I'm pulled into a lap by gentle hands. It's the unknown brunette Barney was dancing with.

"Why aren't you dancing?" I slur.

"What?"

"Barn's good guy."

"Yes he is." She smiles worriedly and calls out over her shoulder for Sam.

He rushes over and drops beside the mystery woman, pulling me into his own lap.

"Rosie, are you alright? Can you hear me?" He smooths the hair from my face, voice and hands quivering

"Did you eat the soup?"

He looks questioningly over at the woman.

"She keeps speaking like that, I think she's in shock." He nods and moves to pick me up.

I scream bloody murder. It's as if I'm full of broken glass.

"We'll have to wait until Barney gets here." The woman says through the hand that covered her mouth in horror. Sam nods, and hands me back to her, careful not to jostle me. He gets up and leaves my field of vision once again.

Next thing I hear are yelling, two voices clashing together in an awful duet of pain and anger. It doesn't stop for a long while, but when it does, I can hear Sam. He's crying, it's muffled, buried in Barn's shoulder probably. I've never heard such pain in his voice.

"Sam? Barn?" My voice is weak, but clearer, as is my mind.

There's the sound of two people moving about, then their faces enter my line of vision. Barn has a large scrape across his cheek similar to my own. And Sam has blood splattered on his shirt and fists. I reach out and grab his closest hand, holding it until the tension leaves it, and his fingers lace with mine.

He squeezes my hand as Barn comes to my side and pulls me into his chest. There's a stick placed in my mouth, and I try to lessen my screams by biting on it as Barn lifts me up, as careful as possible, but the pain still rages. I feel him kiss the top of my head as I once again pass out.


	8. Chapter 8

"Jane, can you get some fresh towels?" Barney sounds close, to my left by the sound of his voice.

"Of course, I'll be right back." The sound of a short kiss follows the oddly familiar female voice. The door clicks shut and Barn sighs. Something cool is laid against my forehead, and Barn's chair scrapes on the floor as he moves to get up. I grope for his hand, and find it resting near my hip.

"Rose?" I struggle to crack open my tired eyes, blinking a few times before my friend comes into focus.

"Hey Barn." I creak. "Who's Jane?"

He grins "The girl I was dancing with when you…" He grimaced "... I'd better wake Sam up."

He went over to the other side of the bed, I tried to follow his movement, but turning my head was virtually impossible. I could feel Barn shaking something on the bed next to my back, and the pressure on my shoulder that I hadn't noticed increased.

"Huh?... Barn? What's up?" Sam's voice slurred from my right.

"Rose is awake." The pressure on my shoulder disappeared and a chair clattered to the floor. A split second later, Sam's flustered face dominated my vision.

"Rosie?"

"Hey."

"How do you feel?"

"Like Jack threw me in the courtyard and then ran over me." I managed a short lived grin "… Where's Alban?" I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know the answer.

"He was sent home."

"What? Didn't he tell everyone about me?"

"Well… Seeing as he really can't talk, it would be difficult, not to mention against his better interest." He looked a little sheepish.

"And why can't he talk?"

"It's a hard thing to do with a broken jaw…" I close my eyes, feeling guilty at the relief washing over me.

"Can't really say he didn't deserve it…" Barn half grins from behind Sam. What would I do without them?

"Oh! You're up… How's your head?" Jane breezed in carrying a stack of towels and grinning at the sight of me wide awake.

"Like it's been kicked in." Everyone winced at that, Sam squeezed my hand. I shrug, no point in pretending it didn't happen.

Barn got up with a sigh, "I best be the others you're awake."

"Others?" What did they do... "Who have you told about me? And what about Will? Where has he been all this time?"

Sam turns to me, clenching my free hand in both of his. "Rosie, we had no choice, we tried to say that Will was greatly injured trying to help Rose." He paused, looking a little confused trying to explain it to me using my two identities, but he shook it off at the look I was giving him and continued. "Sir. Godfrey tried to help, but Old Tom knew something was wrong, he insisted on seeing you, and we saw no way out. It was Sir. Godfrey that brought Tom into his chambers and explained the situation. Tom was aghast, he raved and spluttered for a time, going on about how you were risking all of our heads, and that you were a she-devil…"

He looks to see how I react, and I nod for him to continue. "Sir. Godfrey had everyone leave the office and talked to him for over three hours. Old Tom came out of the room, said he wouldn't speak of this to anyone until he talked to you, and left. We haven't heard from him since, we've tried to talk with him, but he refuses to be in a room alone with any one of us." Sam took one hand and rubbed the back of his neck, leaving the other tightly clasped in mine. I squeezed it reassuringly. " The situation is better than I ever could have hoped for, thank you." I look to Barn and Jane standing at the foot of the bed, hands laced together. "Thank you." They nod Barn cracks a smile, but his eyes are glistening, Jane is crying freely. I turn my focus back to Sam, he nods, knowing what I'm thinking in an instant. Our lives lie in the hands of Old Tom now.


	9. Chapter 9

The weather was starting to cool down, and frost was clinging to each available surface by the time dawn's light peeked over the hills. The garden was full of yellow and orange, the hedges a stark emerald contrast. I just had to get out of that damn room, so when Barn, who was "watching" me left to eat lunch with Jane, I made my escape. The garden was admittedly a strange place to go, seeing as I was nearly killed there last month, but it was quiet and it was unlikely that I would be found. I walked with surprising speed and had little need for the crutch. Strange behavior for a cripple… My eyes seem to roll of their own accord. Must be a reflex I gained when spending too much time around new body guards. I'm basically healed, if they would just...

"Rose!" Sam's voice echoes around the corner, panic lacing each syllable. Sighing, I rise from the bench and grab the stupid crutch from its resting place. What did I expect?

"I'm here." I grumble as I hobble over to my obnoxious jailer/boyfriend. He jogs over and grabs ahold of my shoulders, giving me a quick glare before pulling me into a hug.

"The room was empty when I got there with your lunch, I had thought…"

"Yeah, well, I'm fine." I shake off his hands and begin the unsteady walk back to the castle.

He reaches out, grabbing ahold of my arm. "Hey, I was really worried about you."

I hang my head, "I know you were, and I appreciate it… Really. It's just, I've been stuck in that room for a month. I can't practice. I can't ride Jack. I can't even eat lunch with all the guys! I'm so tired of being useless." I look up at him with an apologetic smile for my next statement. "And, while I really do love you guys, you and Barn are one more order to "sit and relax" away from a beating."

Giving me a cheeky grin, he bends down and swoops me carefully into his arms. I don't even bother to protest as we both know I love it when he does that, and there's no one around to see us. I snuggle into his chest as he grabs my crutch and begins heading back towards the castle that's peeking over the tops of the hedges.

As I play with the hem of his tunic, I think back on the conversation I had with Old Tom. It was a month ago, and even the memory of the look on his face makes me internally cringe. He had swept into the room as if the castle guard was on his tail and he'd only just lost them. I snorted, and got a withering glare for it. He hobbled over to the chair by the side of the bed and rested his cane against the wall before lowering himself down.

"How are ye lad… er… lass?" He looked uncomfortable, yet, pissed.

"I'm healing Sr. and ready to take any punishment you've got. I deserve it." I hang my head for effect, but Tom's not fooled for a second.

"I might 'ave never seen ye in a dress, but I know ye better than that William Romenel." His glare is no different than if I had missed practice and was trying to wiggle my way out of laps. My shoulders slump.

"Yes Sr…" So much for that.

"Lass…" He's rubbing the back of his neck, looking more uncomfortable than when Aunt tried to invite him to dinner a year ago. (I hadn't been able to be fearful of my secret being blown, I was laughing too hard.). "I had a daugh'er once, and she was a lot like ye. Always gettin into trouble and tryin' to hide in the stables an watch me train the boys." He got a far away smile and seemed to no longer be in the room with me. He shook himself, returning to the present. "As I said, I know ye Will, and I know that, girl or not, yer a fine student, and will make a good knight." He then gets up, gathering his walking stick and rushing to the door.

"Sir.?" He stops as if caught escaping. He turns slowly, and I can't help but stare. Big sparkling tears were tracing their way down his scarred face.

"What happened to her? Your daughter?"

"She died." And with that, he left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"You know, you did make it all the way out here on your own… perhaps you're well enough for an easy ride into the woods and a picnic?"

"Hm?" His voice had rumbled and echoed around in his chest, distracting me to the point of missing what he said.

He laughed, making the distracting vibrations once again. Mentally shaking myself, I heard his proposal the second time around.

"Yes!" I almost squealed, earning another grin.

"That settles it then, we'll go tomorrow."

I'm so happy at the prospect of being allowed out, that I don't even complain when he makes me sit in the bed to eat the now cold soup.


	10. Chapter 10

"How are you doing?" I have to take a breath (and count to five so as to not smack my well-meaning friend) before I answer.

"Sam, I haven't developed the plague in the past three minutes. Please stop asking."

"Sorry…" He swivels around in the saddle, his face sheepish, but accompanied by his damn puppy dog eyes. I sigh, not being able to help the soft grin that takes over my annoyed frown. He smirks and bounces back into place, knowing that he got away with it. Continuing his argument with Barn on the benefits of a broad sword as opposed to a rapier. I turn to the woman clad in blue by my side and we share a bemused eye roll. Our boys.

The outing had been postponed for a week, until the healer had officially released me to return to everyday activities without the aid of the crutch (not that I'd had been using it like I was supposed to anyway…). Jane had raised her eyebrows at my choosing to wear the Will get up, and Barn had found it prudent to relay his favorite Rose-analogy about my being similar to "a cat refusing a bath when it came to me and my dresses". He received a good smack upside the head and Jane had a good laugh.

Jane had fit seamlessly into the group, and we had really hit it off. Barn often complained that I was "stealing his girlfriend", but we all saw how pleased he was that we were getting along.

"How much further?" She, while the daughter of a duke, was not used to the saddle, and seemed to be feeling it.

"It's just beyond that bend in the road… I think." Navigation was never a strong point of mine. "It would be much more comfortable if you didn't insist on riding side saddle…" She captured her bottom lip in between her teeth in thought. We had had a version of this conversation many times. We had been raised very differently, and while she respected what I did, and kept my secret, she just couldn't seem to abandon property herself.

"No one's here to judge you, and you'll have fewer saddle sores…" That seemed to decide it for her. She squared her shoulders and slid her right led into its own stirrup. The blue fabric of her dress bunched up to reveal the petticoat beneath, and Jane frantically fidgeted, trying to cover it, but soon found it to be hopeless and gave up with a huff.

We neared the turn, and I began to laugh at the look on Jane's face as the wind blew the flap of her skirt up, when I smelled smoke. This was no ordinary camp fire, the stench of burning flesh and the sound of screams laced with the suffocating smell.

"Stop!" My scream was almost involuntary. I knew this stench, it had been drilled into my head when the village near my home was attacked. I knew what it meant. Bandits.

Sam and Barn yanked on their rains, and were by my side in a moment.

"What is it Rose?" Barn was already at Jane's side, grasping her arm to steady her after her mare had started at my shout.

"Don't you smell that?" They all lifted their noses into the breeze.

"No, I… Wait, smoke?" I nod and direct Black Jack off to the left, off the path and up the hill. Before cresting the top, I dismount and direct the others to do the same. We army crawl to the top and peek over the edge. The scene that laid itself out was one of terror and chaos, women and children were running around and trying to find one another, while men were gathering near a barn that was ablaze. It all looked like an anthill that had been kicked. Then set in fire.

"What's going on?" Jane came puffing up behind Barn, trying to crawl and be lady like at the same time. She gasped one hand covering her mouth, the other grabbing at Barn's shoulder. He clasped her hand in his. We all stared down in disbelief, watching with morbid fascination as a man got too close to the flames and lit up like a candle. He was rolling around, several companions patting him down, when a small group of five armed men came around the corner.

"Are those Nottingham colors?" Barn was squinting to see through the heated air flowing in front of his line of sight.

"I think so… The villagers don't seem too happy to see them." Sam frowned. "Shouldn't they be welcoming the help?" We watched a mountainous man approach the lead soldier in a captain's tunic, he was yelling something that was incomprehensible from where we hid, but we could tell by the staff in his fisted hand he was waving around, he wasn't asking them to tea.

The captain drew his sword and struck out at the man. Without warning. Without a call to stand down. Had the large villager not blocked the blow with his staff, he'd have been killed for sure. This was not the conduct Old Tom taught them. He always said that a villager's life was worth the same as a knight's. This soldier reminded me of Alban - full of the supposed power that holding a sword gave. No thought to anyone he deemed below himself. It made me want to strike him dead where he stood.

Before I had even thought of acting, I was up and striding toward Black Jack. I expected Barn, or at least Sam to call out for me to stop, to come back and think it through, but they were both soon at my side, walking alongside me, Jane just a step behind. For a sheltered Duke's daughter, she looked ready to fight.

Sam takes my hand for a moment, squeezing tightly before heading off to Sandy and buckling on the sword that had been hanging from her saddle. I do the same, patting Black Jack's neck before mounting up. We were off.


	11. Chapter 11

We entered the smoking town at full speed. Jane went off towards the burning barn, jumping off her mare and heading straight for the still-smoldering man on the ground.

Sam, Barn, and I didn't even hesitate, going straight for the man who was no longer holding off the soldier's blows. He was slumped on the grass, leaning heavily on his staff, right arm gushing thick, black blood.

"Jane, he needs help!" I shout over my shoulder, drawing my sword as I turn back to the sneering captain. I stopped Black Jack in between him and his victim, pointing my blade at him, trying to restrain myself from attacking without warning as he had.

"Who are you? You have no business here!" His voice was contemptuous, sure of itself in each and every syllable. My blood ran hotter just listening to it.

"We saw you attack this man with no provocation! A true knight fights _for_ the people! You have no right to wear the colors of The Lionheart!" I have to take a breath to keep my sword from quavering. My ears are roaring with blood, I can barely hear the sounds of metal clanging behind me as Sam and Barn kept the other soldiers at bay.

"I do not serve that coward of a king." he sneered, feathers ruffled "I serve his royal highness King John."

" _King_ John?... You must be joking. God forbid the day that spineless prince becomes king." I can't help but smirk at the look my statement gives him, as if he's been served a heaping pile of fresh manure. I hop down from the saddle and pat Black Jack's backside and he moves off to stand near ane and the injured man.

"How _dare_ you insult the King!" His grip tightens on his sword's hilt, and I crouch, reading for an attack. "He stayed here with his people while _Richard_ went off to play God's advocate in a wasteland! His people suffer and starve as he plays the hero!" A harsh barking laugh is torn from his lips mid rant. "And the poor bastards love him for it! They praise his name and fight in his honor as they fall to the dirt, dead like flies in winter."

"We suffer because of that snake that sits on King Richard's throne! He's the one taxing us into our graves!" The injured man was sitting up against Jane's restraining hands, glaring at the knight, even as his face drained of color. Barn leaves the fighting to Sam (who's having more fun than he should be) and rushes over to help Jane keep the man down.

The knight's face reddens to an impossible color, and he turns a roar to round on the man, but I shift, blocking his path. Our blades crash, ringing loud enough to pass for a cathedral bell.

"Impertinent boy!" He swings over his head intending to use his height to knock me on my back. It was a move I'd learned when I was five. My recently-healed bones groan in protest as I dive to the side at the last minute, not giving him time to correct his momentum. but I push through, ignoring it. I come back up for a strike at his back and he barely manages to dodge, spinning around to roll with sword thrown out in a weak attempt to block the blow. My sword glances off the edge of his and knicks his cheek leaving a long line of red in the wake of the metal. To say he looked unhappy would be understatement.

I smirk, eyebrows raised, "Not bad for an Impertinent boy, huh?" Barn's barking laugh sounds across the field, but stops when Jane smacks his arm to get his attention and put more pressure on the injured man's arm. The knight's face was contorted, he looked like he was about to pop.

"M'lord!" A soldier off to the side called out between exchanging blows with Sam. "The King wished us returned by sundown, what shall we do with them?" He indicated Sam and the rest of us.

The captain swore, eyeing me. "We'll have to leave them be. The king has another job for us tonight." He sheathed his sword and backed away from me, heading toward his horse and men. Sam and Barn glanced back at me as their opponents did the same, and I jerked my head toward Jane. We would regroup and help the villagers.

"I'll be seeing you again boy, then I'll return the favor." He gestures at his now bloody cheek before kneeing his horse into flying off down the dirt path leading to the castle. The castle where we all happened to live.

"We're dead men." I can't say I've ever seen barn's face so green before...

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I know your out there... Please review. Hello? Anyone? :'(


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